I'm With Naruto
by dmnq8
Summary: ..."I'll never change. He can't save me. But with him, his luminosity camouflaging my reality, I can pass for human." Sequel to 'I'm With Sasuke'. Yaoi, Lemon, SasuNaru. Disclaimer in my Profile.


A/N: Sequel to I'm with Sasuke. There won't be another chapter after this one.

Beta: Blood Zephyr

* * *

I'm With Naruto

I know him. Him asking if I want to fuck is his way of saying he forgives me. By demonstrating his willingness to receive my sperm, he's showing me he has faith that I won't make any deals with Kyuubi behind his back. His face is so open, so handsome and trusting… it hurts me. I can't look at him.

My eyes fall to the book he kicked from my hands. Absently I pick it up, turning it slowly in my hands as I search for the words to say what needs to be said. They're not things I ever plan on saying again, so it's important I get it right this time around. Naruto eventually stops smiling, catching on to my mood. His lazy sprawl in the chair belies his sudden apprehension.

"There's not much I wouldn't do to get what I want," I begin quietly. "I've crossed too many lines, knocked down too many boundaries. Morals are a hindrance. I don't believe in right or wrong, because they limit me from doing what I need to do. Things which are so often considered 'wrong'. I believe in power, since it is the only thing this world recognizes. And my clan." Now I pick my head up to catch Naruto's enraptured gaze for a moment. "And you. I believe in you."

There's a crash from the kitchen. Breaking glass. I guess I should be worried about the girls cutting themselves… but they've never gotten hurt before and this is more important. Yo-chan gives a soft snore at the crash, but remains sleeping. I continue talking.

"I know what I am. And I know what I'm not. There is nothing good in me. I don't do good things. There is nothing in me left to save, or turn me from the path I've decided to walk. All the good I have in my life is from you. The kids, my acceptance in the village… that's all from you. You redeem me. You're the only humanity I have left, Naruto. Because if someone like you can stand to be with someone like me… then maybe I'm not the monster I know I am. I said there isn't much I wouldn't do to get what I want. But there is _nothing _I wouldn't do to keep you with me."

Naruto shifts in my peripheral vision. "Sasuke…"

"I was… wrong. To threaten you the way I did. To disregard you. To debase what you mean to me. Wrong, but I would have done it anyway, to rebuild my clan. I didn't promise not to have more kids because of regret, or because I'm sorry. I'm not. And it's not because I don't want to live without you. It's because I _can't. _It's maybe the only thing in life that I can't do, and I've done much. I've killed my blood. I've turned my back on everything that ever meant something to me. I walk in darkness, and evil knows my name. Do you understand what I mean, when I say I can't live without you? I physically can't; it's impossible."

That's all. So help me, I will never dig this shit up again. The places I have to go within myself to articulate these truths, these completely unmentionable aspects of myself, are better left in the dark, unvisited. Dragging these squirming creatures to the light of day, voicing them… I feel vile. I am vile. I know it. So long as I don't have to think about it or talk about it, I'm perfectly content with the knowledge.

Naruto swings his leg off the arm of the chair, and comes to kneel in front of me. His large hands rest on my knees as he also takes up examination of the book. A peek at his face shows him pensive. His unique smell surrounds me and it is the smell of my peace, of what comfort I'm able to take in what remains of my life.

* * *

It takes me awhile to sort through everything Sasuke said, to understand what he's really saying. He's not apologizing, that much came through loud and clear. As I study the way his strong hands worry the book, it comes to me that he's afraid and needs reassurance that I won't leave him. He can't say it. The only god he recognizes is power, and if that is true, then it means something that he has sat here and told me that I have power over him.

He can't be without me.

Can't.

It's a weakness; something I can exploit. By making me aware of it, he's telling me he trusts me, and that I can trust he will never do what he did again. He _is _sorry. He's just not sorry for what he is. What can I say to him?

"Well," and my voice is less than steady. I didn't know this side of Sasuke existed, that he was capable of saying these things, and it is freaking me the hell out. "I don't know about can't… but I _won't_ live without you. You're not the only one who gets what he wants, no matter what." I slide my hand behind his neck, bringing our foreheads together.

A cough, a gasp. A jerk of his shoulders and it seems like he's trying to swallow his tongue. A miracle:

Sasuke is crying.

The tears, having fought through god knows how many years across his barren soul, have finally reached the surface, and tremble their way along the length of his eyelashes. I see this and yet cannot believe my eyes. They roll to the tips of those small hairs, pause, and fall. I follow the first one to where it hits my wrist.

* * *

I ignore a lot of who Naruto is. It's a conscious thing. He's too bright and too good to look at directly, to apprehend fully. At least for me. It's all I can do to acknowledge that he wants me. I live with him and need him, but to look at him directly, to see him for who he truly is, would be to willingly blind myself on his radiance. Like the Sun. No. Like one of the super-giants… Rigel perhaps.

But here. Now. Faced with his relentless goodness, his ever-present forgiveness in the face of my corruption. I do look at him, fully, and so I am reduced to ashes. I can only remember crying recently when I found out who my brother really was.

Naruto catches one tear, and kisses it from his fingertip. He kills me with his purity. Underneath it all, under the swagger and brashness and loud-mouthed wonder of him, he is so pure.

And I am so… not.

"I don't deserve you," I whisper. My voice hitches with my uneven breaths. Already I'm pulling away from his light, retreating to my comforting dark depths. This conversation will end soon, because I swear on his head, I can't take another second.

His blue eyes, the color of hope and salvation, look at me seriously as he leans back. "Maybe not. But you need me. And I want you. We're together. What matters besides that?"

A truth I can accept. He's always about the now. "Nothing."

"Never think I don't know who you are, Sasuke." So serious. Dead serious. "I know. I know the very darkest parts of you. Why do you think I fought so hard for you? Fought so hard to save you? I see the masks you wear to live in the village, but I know the real you. Don't ever think that I can't see you." His thumb rubs under my eye, erasing the evidence of my tears. "I _see _you, Uchiha Sasuke."

"I can't even stand to look at myself."

"But I can, Sasuke. I can look at you. I know you and understand you. I was made for you, I think."

Enough. I swallow. Swallow my tears and guilt and all the hideous, putrefying things that comprise the inner me. My regular self, flawed but impenetrable, is back in place.

But Naruto doesn't let that happen. His lips touch mine, capturing the last slimy vestige of my soul before it slinks back under the rock of my heart, and a shuddery sound escapes me.

He kisses me.

And kisses me.

And kisses me again, ugly things and all.

***

My hands fist on his shirt, handfuls of the material bunched in my grip, holding him at bay, holding him close. I glance at the door, my breathing coming heavier. A hand seal, and his clone closes the door and leans on it.

The shirt is torn, slowly, thoughtfully, the drawn-out rrriip sound abrading our nerves with knowledge of what's to come. I stand, drawing him up with me and his body is warm, his bare chest smooth and bronzed.

I hold him. Hard. My face in his neck, lips pressed to his pulse, feeling it quicken. He takes my sword from my back and sets it in the chair, his other hand already loosening my pants. Then his own. His pants drop to the floor with a clunk of his belt buckle.

The carpet is rough. I'm still clothed, my dick exposed for what's about to happen. Naruto is naked, warm and willing. Always willing to give me of himself. He's actually not a receiving kind of guy, but he knows it has to be this way between us. Just one more way he shows me what I mean to him.

Kisses on his neck, on his chest, and on the stomach that housed our children. The seal is there, the muscles hard and defined; no trace of the previous distension at all. The two days I took, to really think about Naruto's ultimatum, left me yearning for this body. One heavy thigh settles on my shoulder. I push the other towards his chest as my mouth sucks his perineum. He shudders silently.

I swallow his balls and his thighs push against me, his body stiffening to keep the sound of his pleasure in. My hair is tugged sharply as I roll the orbs on my tongue, sucking them almost hard enough to hurt. I feel strands of my hair popping free of my scalp, his nails digging and hurting… I release his sac and my hair is given respite.

Contemplation of his wrinkled anus is an enjoyable pastime, one of my favorites. My breath stirs the few hairs there, puckering the flesh further. I love tasting it and sucking it and licking it. I love his musky smell and heat. I love the moans that attention to this spot wrings from him, the way he curses sexily when I tease him right, and angrily when I don't. I capture one blonde hair in my teeth and yank it out, causing him to strangle his yelp of surprise and pain.

Yoichi stirs, whimpers, and then is still. Asleep.

We breathe again and I tease him no more.

My hands curve over his thighs, holding him steady as I fuck him with my tongue. He arches against my face, and I can just see where his cock is rising. His hand squeezes it briefly, once, and then moves to his face to suck three of his fingers. He's panting, struggling not to make noise, and I like that. I suck harder, challenging him. The nails on one hand dig into the carpet. He's speaking but the words have no sound. He's sweating. Nibbling my way up to his erection, I spend a moment running my lips over the dripping slit, smearing his pre-cum around my mouth, over my chin. I lick the head clean before slipping it into my mouth.

For long seconds I only rest there, letting him ooze his clean saltiness onto my tongue. It mixes with my saliva to drip out past my lips and down his veined length. He's so hard… Twisting my mouth and hand in opposite directions, I begin slowly working him to that glorious edge, that sharp edge of release and pleasure.

* * *

I can take the hand. I can even take the mouth. What I can't take is that tongue and the way it swirls around my glans, working along my sensitive slit. It tortures every nerve in my body, until I feel like if I don't come, I'll be in pain for the rest of my life. He's so damnably slow and domineering about it, intentionally ripping my senses apart, taking my control and showing it for the flimsy thing it was.

I'm arched and quivering and breathless… close. So close! I hold back my cries of pleasure by the skin of my teeth, grabbing his warm hands where they clutch my trembling thighs.

Waves of pleasure. I'm not afloat or surfing them, but caught in the undertow, ceaselessly rolled and tumbled until I'm totally disoriented. Helpless. That tongue sends new waves crashing and I'm powerless against them.

Finally, some mercy. He picks his head up, walks forward on his hands to brace himself above me, and our bodies settle themselves in the familiar position: my legs wrapped around his waist, his blunt cock nudging my hole. Sunlight illuminates one half of his face and I can see the dark, dark grey of one eye, the almost invisible pupil. I can sense his muscles gathering for the entry, but I stop him with a hand on his chest.

He's opened a door in himself today. One I never knew could open. Now, while the revelations behind that door are fresh and I have a chance, I ask him for something. Something that, under normal circumstances, I know he would never give. Maybe I shouldn't ask, maybe I shouldn't risk pushing him away further… but, I find that I suddenly need it.

My eyes meet his unblinkingly. "Say it," I whisper. "Please. Just this once."

* * *

He's never asked before. Never. Why does he ask now, when he knows I can't give it? It's not in me to say it. I know my face shows nothing but frigid disapproval as I penetrate him swift and hard, and he turns his own face away, disappointed.

***

… _Thrust…_

_He is a bright star, immense and powerful._

… _Thrust…_

_I'm nothing but a dead satellite, drawn to him and kept in orbit by the pull of his gravity, his goodness._

… _Thrust…_

_As the moon reflects the sun's light, so too do I reflect his goodness: my life now is nothing but this reflection. Without him I'd just be dark. Always dark._

… _THRUST…_

_He asks for so little._

… _THRUST…_

_And gives so much._

… _THRUST…_

_I can give him this. I can release the admission from the stony walls of my soul._

… _THRUST…_

_Just this once._

_***  
_

He's tensing up, his muscles becoming rock hard, his face turned away and panting. His hand jerks rhythmically on his cock. Just before he and I both come, I grab his face by the jaw and turn it towards me. His blue eyes open halfway, enough for me to see they're cloudy and glazed with passion.

"Just this once," I grind out. My orgasm is right there, ready to crash over me.

His eyes widen, searching my face in disbelief, in hope, in gladness.

"I love you, Naruto. _I love you._"

He comes with a hot gush between our stomachs, just as I empty explosively, deep inside him. I barely managed to cover his mouth in time with my own, swallowing his hoarse cry as he swallows mine. We shudder together, fused at the mouth, limbs locked around each other, wrenched painfully again and again by the spasms of our joint release.

* * *

Later. Sleep is claiming us but hasn't claimed us yet. Naruto has his pants on. We're on our sides, the cradle in our sights, the clone gone. I'm curled around his back. We breathe deeply. I'm content. He doesn't say the words back to me, but then, he doesn't have to. He's told me before, at the times when it mattered.

It's not about love, what's between us. It's too insignificant an emotion to describe us. But I do love him, as much as I am capable of such a thing. And he knows.

I'll never change. He can't save me. But with him, his luminosity camouflaging my reality, I can pass for human. I can take from the never-ending well of light and joy that is him, and be okay. I'm happy.


End file.
